


Make a Career Out of You

by TheWalkingGrimes



Series: Tales of District Four [15]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, This one is comparatively tame actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingGrimes/pseuds/TheWalkingGrimes
Summary: Finnick works with the trainees in his District and considers what bringing home another victor would mean.
Series: Tales of District Four [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018845
Kudos: 35





	Make a Career Out of You

Dex Seaway is a dangerous kid.

He moves with fluid motion, eyes sharp and calculating. There is a coldness behind those eyes - like a shark whose only purpose is to keep swimming, no matter the cost. He never smiles unless there’s a reason, unless it’s expected. Here he is now, measuring his move, weapon poised back. In a moment he’s going to strike, and it’s going to be deadly. His eyes shift slightly, just the smallest indication that something is going to happen, and with it his weight comes unbalanced a little on his right side -

Finnick swipes at Dex’s left side, ignoring the feint to the right, and knocks Dex’s feet out from under him with the foam spear.

“Too slow,” Finnick tells him cheerfully above the snorts of Dex’s classmates. It’s the male A-class, and they’re only a few months out from the Games so that means the Potentials for this year’s volunteers will be selected soon and they’ll start to receive individual training. 

Which, at this point, is looking like half the class. All the seventeen and eighteen year olds, maybe one particularly ruthless sixteen year old. There was a time when these kids would’ve had to clamber over each other to fight for a spot. But enrollment at the Complex is down - prices have gone up thanks to Capitol taxes, there’s not enough money to go around for scholarship students anymore, the under-the-table reward for volunteering had to be significantly reduced. 

In other words, the incentive to volunteer to fight to the death has dropped tremendously. Coupled with what happened to the  _ last  _ victor they brought home - 4’s almost at the point of not being a Career district anymore. Ten, fifteen years ago… no way would someone like last year’s Hodge been allowed to be Reaped. 

Plus, it’s a Quarter Quell this year. Who knows how many of them will be so gung-ho to go in once they find out whatever twist the Capitol has planned for this year?

Dex picks himself up, ignoring the laughter of his classmates. “What did I do wrong?” He asks - bright, keen, always focused on improving. Mags would like him, Finnick thinks, though she hasn’t been down to the center since her stroke. He’s not sure what she would think of all the changes Shale has been making.

“You’re overthinking.” Finnick tells him, pitching his voice up because this is something everyone needs to hear. The only reason they’re laughing so hard at Dex is because he’s good so it’s fun to see him get knocked on his ass. “You know what you’re doing, you just need to trust yourself more. You take the time to size up an opponent like that in an arena, and you’re dead.”

“Don’t think I’ll be going up against an opponent of your size in the arena.” Dex points out, which is fair.

But - “You’d be surprised. Some of the eighteens that Two churns out are monsters. They look even bigger in person, trust me. Anyway, size isn’t all that matters.”

In another context, that line would’ve probably gotten more than a few sniggers and suggestive responses. But two of these kids could be dead in a year, so they don’t really have a choice than to take Finnick seriously. 

Besides, unlike most of the other trainers at the Complex, Finnick’s actually a mentor so they all want to be on his good side. Not that he’d let any of them die  _ on purpose  _ \- not even Kelvin, the bloodthirsty sixteen year old who is a bit of a piece of work - but they’re smart enough to know that having a mentor who actually likes you is only an advantage in the arena. 

And they don’t even  _ know  _ what Finnick did for the one tribute he actually brought home.

Dex is psyching himself back up, and this time he doesn’t wait too long. He lunges and spins and they go back and forth for a bit - Dex is good, and there are a couple times Finnick barely manages to block him. If he wanted to build Dex’s self esteem up he’d maybe let him win but he doesn’t because he doesn’t just want Dex to win  _ this  _ fight - he wants him to win all of them.

The foam end of Finnick’s spear smacks Dex across the face. If it were real his face would have been carved in. “Dead.” Finnick tells him, as Dex rubs his face - it wasn’t really  _ that  _ long ago that Finnick was in Dex’s shoes so he knows that while the foam spear may not be sharp, it still hurts. “But congratulations, you lived two minutes longer this time.”

“Go again?” He asks, panting a little but still very keen. 

“No, we’re out of time.” The trainees all cock their heads. “Psychological evaluations this week, remember? So the rest of the classes are shorter.”

A few of them groan, which Finnick doesn’t think they would dare do in front of Shale, Drake, or Meri. They might take him seriously, but they’re still more relaxed around him. Finnick likes to think it’s because of his charming personality but honestly it probably has more to do with the fact that he’s still -  _ somehow  _ \- barely older than them.

Ridiculous, because it feels like a hundred years since he was in their shoes.

“I don’t know why we have to do so many of them.” Kelvin, the shitty one, tells Riley. “If we were going to crack, wouldn’t they be able to tell by now?”

Riley shrugs. He’s a strong contender, but a boy of few words. “It’s different in the arena.”

“What they should really do is decapitate someone in front of us and see if we go batshit crazy,” Kelvin says with a bloodthirsty laugh.

“Kelvin, go take five laps.”

He jerks his head up in surprise. “What?”

“Laps.” Finnick says. “Five of them. Go.”

Luckily he’s not enough of a shit to argue about it, though he does look frustrated and surprised. Finnick’s not Drake - who’s a bit of an egomaniac - he’s never been the type to punish anyone for backtalk or stupid jokes. 

But even he has his limits.

The track around the mid-distance training area is short. By the time everyone else has packed up and is leaving, Kelvin finishes them and heads back to pick up his stuff. Only then does Finnick tell him, “I didn’t mean the training area. I meant the Loop.”

_ Now  _ he looks like he wants to argue. The Loop - the path that winds through the woods around the Complex - is three kilometers long. 

“Hang on - for a stupid joke? I didn’t-”

“If you go into the arena,” Finnick tells him pleasantly, “and you come back out, then you can joke about whatever you want. Until then, go run your laps.

He’s angry, and seems to be remembering that Finnick isn’t actually his friend, but he leaves. Finnick will check on him later to make sure he’s still running - he will be, Kelvin is spiteful and possibly embarrassed enough to do it. And he’ll tell himself that it’s just going to make him stronger, a more powerful opponent in the arena.

Drake is really pushing for Kelvin to volunteer this year, even though he’s only sixteen. Finnick wants Dex, but some of the other trainers are worried he doesn’t have enough of a killer instinct. If it weren’t for Kelvin, Finnick doesn’t think that would even be up for debate. 

Kelvin is a bully, and a monster. He’s exactly like what they breed in two. Drake and even Shale seem to think this is a  _ good  _ thing.

Finnick doesn’t know what to think. On one hand he doesn’t want another Hodge. Or even another Annie, really (moreso because he doesn’t want anyone to ever have to go through what she suffered).

But he doesn’t want another  _ Finnick Odair  _ either. Or something worse than him, like Tiberius was or that Cato kid from last year. And unfortunately he thinks he likes Dex because he reminds Finnick of himself, and that isn’t a good thing either. 

The truth is… Finnick doesn’t want another victor. But he doesn’t want another dead tribute. 

_ Can’t have it both ways, kid.  _ He can almost  _ hear  _ Haymitch laughing at him. Except until last year Haymitch had no idea what it meant to bring home a victor, so he doesn’t get to talk.

That’s probably what’s getting to Finnick. The berries. What would have happened if those kids from twelve hadn’t been told to spit them up? If the Games had ended with no victor, just mass chaos and confusion. The whole damn corrupt city  _ devastated  _ from losing their two darling star-crossed lovers.

Would it have been enough to end it all?

The riots aren’t. They know that. There needs to be more. Something,  _ something. _

A breaking point.

_ Wait,  _ Plutarch had said the last time Finnick had seen him, like he could sense his restless energy.  _ The time will be right soon. It’ll be sooner than you think. Just be ready. _

That was easy for  _ him  _ to say. He’d never watched a thirteen year old kid eat his last meal and then get skewered in the back hours later.


End file.
